Something to Protect
by Sailor Comet
Summary: Yaoi, curse words, possible OOC, fluff & WAFF with a pinch of angst Ryou knows all sorts of things about Honda, but what's Honda know about Ryou? Not for a lack of wanting to know, however... ABANDONED
1. Poison Ice Cream

Ye gods, I'm writing about Honda. I can't stand Honda! He's annoying! ::falls out of chair, though hole in floor and into basement:: Rayemars, this is all your fault, you hear? I blame you for this. In a nice way. ^_~ 

Erg. I keep referring to Ryou Bakura as just Ryou because I can't ever find an appropriate place to call him Bakura. But Yami Bakura is _not_ plain Bakura.

Curse words, possible OOC depending on your perception of the characters, fluff & WAFF with a pinch of angst, yaoi. 

Honda/Yami-Bakura/Bakura, with Malik thrown in that relationship somehow. Everybody wants to get into Ryou's pants, and this is all you need to know. … Heh.

**Something** **To** **Protect**

**Poison** **Ice** **Cream**

The other Bakura stared at Honda's motorcycle intently, hands crossed behind his back as though he didn't want to touch the machine. He circled it, eyes shifting warily as he took in the wheels, the sidecar on the right side, and examined it as thoroughly as an ancient spirit who knew nothing of technology could. 

"This one's not yours," He stated, standing up and turning his stare on Honda. The brunet nodded. He'd borrowed it for the sidecar, which his bike was lacking. Though he hadn't taken Bakura out on his bike yet, he had the impression that the quiet boy might not be comfortable riding behind him. "Malik has one too," The spirit said, mostly to himself, before addressing Honda once more, "and they're not as safe as cars, correct?"

Honda nodded again, before skipping to the point, "I won't crash when Ryou's with me."

The dark Bakura raised an eyebrow. 

"And I brought an extra helmet for him," The taller boy gestured to said helmet sitting in the sidecar.

At this Yami Bakura raised his other eyebrow, before an only slightly devious smile appeared. "You didn't bring a helmet for me?" He asked, almost succeeding in his imitation of sweetness. 

It took Honda a moment to react. It wasn't exactly a surprise that the Ring Spirit had decided to tag along – once he came out of the Ring he generally stayed out until he got bored or too fed up with the people around him – but he knew how the spirit felt about being even social enough to leave the house. 

 Honda looked from Yami Bakura to the extra helmet, and then back to Yami Bakura again. "If Ryou's wearing it when you come out…" He began.

A snort of, "idiot," interrupted him. "I never said I _wanted_ to wear one. It'd push down my hair." With that there was a bright flash of light, and Honda's vision went spotty. Now when he closed his eyes he could see little navy blue silhouettes of the Ring. Peachy.

Ryou stood patiently while his other half walked over to Honda and grabbed the taller boy by his shirt, pulling him down. Sometimes being tall was a bitch, Honda decided, because Yami Bakura was damned if he'd ever stand on tip-toes. His back was complaining, but Yami Bakura did not release him yet. He wondered what the spirit was planning.

Yami Bakura prided himself on never being predictable. Just when Honda thought the spirit had settled into a pattern, he'd do something Honda's imagination hadn't even touched on. Such as taking over at school last month and pouncing Honda in front of the math teacher and any students who had been in the hall. 

Not that Honda had minded in the least. If you were going to "come out" then you might as well slam the door behind you. And the look on the math teacher's face had been more than enough to make up for the fact that she'd kicked him out of class the week before, even if Yami Bakura made it so that she didn't remember. Which was good, as they didn't need _that_ on their permanent records, but he hadn't done any modifications to the student's minds. "Too many," was the excuse, though Honda had an idea of the real reason. 

Although you'd think that they would have found somebody else to tease by now. It didn't matter to Honda, though. He was more than used to being on people's shit-lists for some reason or the other, and he was damned if he'd let the little bastards get to Ryou. 

But back to the present, Yami Bakura was still staring at him, and Honda was trying to figure out if he was going to get slapped, kissed, or something else. He hoped that the first option wasn't the one Yami Bakura would settle one, because he tended to retaliate, but if Yami Bakura kissed him then the motorcycle wouldn't be running any time soon. 

The thief settled on the 'something else' option, throwing Honda back. It took the taller boy a second to regain his balance, in which Yami Bakura tossed the extra helmet to Ryou. 

Honda shook his head and put on his own helmet. A quiet evening with Ryou had really been too much to hope for. 

"Where are we going?" Asked the white-haired boy. Honda grinned down at him. 

"It's a secret 'til we get there!" With this he flipped his visor down and started up the bike, trying not to rev it up too loudly. Yami Bakura settled onto the seat behind him, pulling himself too close to Honda for the latter to be able to concentrate on the road easily. He debated telling the spirit to scoot back or not, before shifting the bike into gear and pulling out. 

The first half of the ride was uneventful, but as Honda had already figured out, any chances for a peaceful evening had already crashed and were burning away. He just hadn't expected the fire to be so large.

The sound of another bike reached their ears while waiting at a red light. Honda glanced in his rearview mirror, admiring the motorcycle – an expensive chopper – before his eyes widened to rival Yuugi's. 

The rider of the bike that had just pulled up was none other than Malik. 

"Bakura," The tan boy called, taunting. "You're letting somebody _else_ drive?" He laughed, though not as loud as he'd been talking, and the annoying sound was almost hidden in the rumble of the bikes. Malik, Honda noticed, didn't wear a helmet either.

Yami Bakura's hold around Honda's waist tightened slightly as his arms tensed.

"Hey, let's see if he's any good on a bike! Race me," He said, the challenge more in more of a commanding tone than anything.

Honda frowned. Yeah, sure, while Malik obviously had the faster bike and Honda had the added weight of a sidecar—

"Accept," The Ring Spirit whispered, and Honda wasn't quite sure how he heard him over the noise of the bikes and other traffic. He didn't speculate much on it as the light turned green and Malik shot off, cackling entirely too loudly. He was much better at taking orders than he was at drawing conclusions about things that shouldn't have been quite possible. 

Malik had already gained a lead and was increasing it; his bike had the better acceleration and was lighter. The brunet leaned forward on his bike, willing it to go faster. 

He wasn't sure on his view of Malik. This was the same person who had taken control of his best friend, threatening Jounouchi's life, tried to kill Yuugi, and played a near-fatal magical tug-o-war using Ryou as the rope… although the thief sitting behind him was as much to blame for that as Malik. But Yuugi was all for forgiving the Egyptian, and Honda had – mostly – forgiven Yami Bakura, whose list of offenses was at least as long as Malik's. 

And then there was the relationship between the dark Bakura and Malik, which Honda knew would make his head hurt if he thought about it too hard. At times they seemed like Kaiba and Yuugi, only rivals, although at a more violent and homicidal level, then at other times … Honda knew that they'd slept together at least once, which, he would admit to himself, did cause a certain feeling akin to jealousy to rise up. Then there was the murderous glare Yami Bakura would give Malik when the latter looked at Ryou hungrily, and Honda would have been more than willing to help the white-haired thief clout Malik at those times. 

"Hurry up, fool! You'll lose if this keeps up!" Once again Honda heard the quiet hiss, though he was at a loss as to how he'd carry out the order. 

The chopper made a wide left turn around a corner, slowing down to do so, and inspiration struck the brunet boy. Reaching the turn he swung the handlebars sharply, yelling out, "Lean to the right!" as he did so. 

The sidecar wheels lifted off the ground as the bike made a near ninety-degree turn. Honda felt his adrenaline and fear shoot up, wondering if his passengers would lean and knowing it was too late if they didn't. 

The wheels returned to the asphalt with a small thump as the bike continued speeding after Malik. 

Honda felt a grin break out. Yeah, racing like this was illegal, but it was fun as Hell, proved by Yami Bakura's maniacal laugh that broke out. The gain was slight, but… Malik didn't notice their maneuver, and made another turn, this one to the right. Well, it was a little more difficult, but if Ryou was up to it… He glanced to the right at the other boy. Ryou's hands were gripping the sides of the little compartment as he leaned forward, hair flying out from beneath the helmet. Honda could almost see a small smile on the reserved boy's face, though the angle he was looking from was difficult. 

This was why Honda had bought his motorcycle, ignoring his mother's pleas, his father's threat of not caring when Honda crashed and died, even Jounouchi's little-shown concern. They didn't know. They didn't realize that to be rushing through the streets, not in a car, with no confines or constraints to stop the wind from hitting your face. 

He wondered, rounding yet another turn and bringing them closer to Malik, what Yami Bakura looked like with the his hair thrown back from the wind. 

A little more…

Honda flashed a grin at Malik as the trio past him, the expression on Malik's face rivaling the way his math teacher had looked that one day. Now that he was in the lead, he could decide where they went. He looked around quickly. Well, they weren't too far from his destination…

"Lean!" He yelled, letting go of the gas as he wrenched the handlebars to the left. He could feel the sidecar lifting higher than it had any of the previous times, heard Ryou's small yell and forced down the sudden panic that they maybe wouldn't shift their weight enough…

The 180-degree turn was complete, now putting them in the opposite lane and facing the right way. Ignoring both Malik's yelling and the cars honking in protest Honda started up again, turning the gas as hard as he could. Now it was just a flat stretch of street; the place Honda wanted to finish at was only a few blocks ahead. Malik had the advantage on a straight stretch, though… 

He'd just have to bet on his tiny lead. 

He could hear the rumble of Malik's chopper coming up. Only two more blocks now… Was that a cop car they'd just past? One more block, Malik was gaining steadily in the rearview mirror, with the little sticker on it that reminded Honda that objects were closer than they appeared. 

Honda allowed the bike to slow down, trying to avoid jerking to a rough stop. Malik sped past as he pulled into a parking spot. The blond stared at them incredulously, but then came to a sudden stop in a parking place a little further ahead. 

Yami Bakura was the first off the bike, still grinning like the madman he was, hair even messier than usual. Honda watched him discreetly and wondered if tangled hair would have looked half as good on anyone who wasn't one of his ivory-haired lovers. He held the bike steady as Ryou stepped shakily out of the sidecar and dismounted his motorcycle just in time to see Malik saunter up to the trio. 

Yami Bakura was geared up for a glaring contest with the Egyptian, but something else grabbed his attention first. As soon as Honda had made it up to the sidewalk and removed his helmet, Ryou all but tackled the taller boy. It took him a moment to react and return the hug; he hadn't known Ryou was capable of squeezing that hard.

"Thank you," Ryou said, voice muffled and hardly intelligible from speaking into the brunet's chest. "That was amazing!" The smaller boy raised his head, smiling up at him, and Honda felt that familiar warm feeling in his chest. He leaned down and gave Ryou a quick kiss, and the green-eyed boy let him go with a slight blush. 

Honda found it a bit endearing that, taking into account the things he'd seen Ryou do, the other boy would still blush at the smallest things if they weren't alone.

Deciding to ignore Malik for the time being, he turned to the building they'd parked in front of. "Our destination," He said, presenting the little place to Ryou.

"The Generic Ice Cream Shoppe" didn't quite qualify as a restaurant, being too tiny, or a café. Entering, the quartet could see that there were only two tables (that would seat two people each, a fact which made Malik grin unnervingly) in front of the giant window on the front of the shop. The counter was an L shape, and the side that didn't have the cash register on it was more a large display of all the ice cream flavours than a counter. 

Ryou was the only one who seemed at all excited by the place. Honda watched as he dashed back and forth along the ice cream side, debating between the different types. Malik and Yami Bakura sat at the same table, engaged in a glaring contest, and he and Ryou ordered. 

"I don't need to eat," The Ring Spirit stated flatly as the mint-chocolate chip cup was placed before him. Ryou shrugged and licked his cone of French vanilla, placing another cup of ice cream on the table in front of Malik. 

The tan boy took the opportunity to take Ryou's hand and smile up at the boy. "Thank you," He said smoothly. "What flavour did you get me?"

Another light blush made its way to Ryou's cheeks. "Coffee," He managed to say softly, too shy to take his hand back. Malik stared up at him, making the paler boy's blush intensify.

There was a loud snap, and Yami Bakura had everybody's attention. His plastic spoon fell to the table in two pieces. "Ryou," He ground out, "could you get me another spoon?" Ryou nodded, glad for the excuse to slip out of Malik's hold. 

Honda sat at the second table holding a small cone of chocolate. He'd been in danger of crushing his cone when he saw Malik giving Ryou that usual hungry look, but a quick glare from Yami Bakura had silenced him. Ryou returned with the plastic spoon for his other and sat with Honda quietly. 

The situation was perfectly set up for a long, awkward silence, until Yami Bakura dropped his spoon once more, although intact this time. "Holy Hell's Balls that's cold!" He yelled, staring wide-eyed at the kiddy-cup of ice cream. 

Ryou giggled, immediately becoming the target of the thief's glare. "That's the point!" He told the other, "It's _ice_ cream, silly!" 

Yami Bakura switched his glare from Ryou to the ice cream, and back again, before settling back down and picking his spoon back up. Honda wisely stayed silent, but Malik chose that time to start snickering. 

"What?" Yami Bakura demanded, defensive. "We didn't exactly have 'ice cream' back in my time!"

This time Honda couldn't stop his own small laughs, and Ryou joined him in giggling. Honda was immensely grateful that Yami Bakura didn't have a mental link with _him_, because the spirit would flay him alive if he knew that Honda had just thought he was "cute." It was true, though. With plastic spoon clenched in one hand and a little bit of the mint green ice cream on the corner of his lips, glaring angrily at all the assembled, and sounding like an old man with the use of, "back in my time," he currently rivaled Ryou for cuteness. 

Then Honda wondered if he was just biased, because he was fairly sure that nobody else would have agreed with him save Ryou. Maybe Malik, too, but it was established that the Egyptian was a few flowers short of a bouquet. He stopped laughing and turned his attention to his ice cream. The chocolate cone was almost gone, he noticed, realizing that he might have to get more. 

Ryou, too, had recovered from his giggling, and Malik had ceased snickering though a smirk still lingered. Yami Bakura, however, was still glaring at the group, but eventually attempted his ice cream once more. 

In all honesty, once he got past the cold it didn't taste half bad. That thought he kept to himself. 

The next silence that past over the group wasn't half as awkward, as Yami Bakura and Malik abandoned their glaring in favour of the ice cream. Honda couldn't help but feeling relieved at that. There was always a nasty inadequate feeling that crept into his mind whenever the two would face off, mostly because Yami Bakura wouldn't allow him to interfere. 

He wanted to help, but if his help was refused, the way Jounouchi always did –

A tap on his shins interrupted his thoughts. Ryou was watching him over his cone of French vanilla, the half-gone ball of ice cream hiding the lower half of his face. The tap at his shins came again and Honda retaliated, knowing when Ryou smiled from his eyes. The wide, pale-emerald irises were always expressive and shining, and even though his mouth was hidden it was obvious that Ryou was pleased.

"Dear gods, they're playing footsy," Malik's voice cut in snidely and Honda shot him a glare, only to find that the tan boy's eyes were on Yami Bakura. Ryou's feet fell to the floor and the boy concentrated on his ice cream. 

Yami Bakura was just as upset as Honda, however. "What's it to you?" His voice was a bit lower than usual, a warning sign to all sane people to evacuate. The only sane person within range was the worker behind the counter, however, and her attention was taken by her Final Fantasy 29 strategy guide. 

"It just makes me curious," Malik's voice was casual but carried a slight mocking tone. "I wonder just how it's come about that _you_, of all people, have been domesticated." 

At this Yami Bakura shot out of his seat, still clenching his plastic spoon although the ice cream was currently forgotten. There was a crunch as Honda bit into his cone, and Ryou stiffened. 

"Elaborate," The spirit growled. 

Malik leaned back in his chair, not taking his eyes off Yami Bakura. "I meant no offense," The blond said, ignoring the mutter of, "liar." "I was just wondering why you allow yourself to have to obvious weak points like this." He gestured to the table where Ryou and Honda sat, this time catching the glare that Honda was still shooting his way. He ignored it and continued. "If I remember correctly, you used to be of the opinion that having … connections with others was just another way for people to bring you down." His grin was entirely too long; he knew the effect his words were having. 

Honda finished chewing his cone angrily. 

"If something were to happen to either of them…" Malik wasn't finished speaking, though. "You've gotten so close that the effect would be _devastating_." 

He chose that moment, still grinning and infuriating Honda to no end, to pull the Sennen Rod from his belt. The action coupled with his words made his intent plain.

"Little Bakura there, I can understand that," Malik said, giving the topic of his words a lecherous grin. "But Honda?" The brunet bristled at being the subject of Malik's stare. "He doesn't even duel. He's just a mortal with no Item, painfully normal and even stupider when it comes to matters of importance." 

Although he knew better than to take Malik's words to heart, Honda couldn't help the feeling of inadequacy that welled up. The Ring Spirit had used many of the same insults, and it hurt to hear somebody else say so nonchalantly that he wasn't needed, that he got in the way. His fists clenched and his glare weakened. 

That was when the Rod emitted its familiar golden glow, and Honda felt his consciousness and control drift away. So this was what Malik had meant by, "if anything were to happen." He tried to regain control of his actions, tried to resist when Malik commanded him to stand, but the tan boy's voice in his head reminded him that he was just a normal human. 

"Jounouchi's a normal human too," Honda thought at him, and mentally smirked when he felt Malik frown. 

And then the Egyptian's presence was no longer in his mind and he could fall back into his seat if he chose, which he did happily. A worried Ryou was immediately at his side, arms around his neck and scowling at Malik. 

Yami Bakura's voice reached his ears. The spirit's arms were crossed and he had a haughty grin on his face. "Yeah, so he is," the snow-haired thief agreed. "He gets in my way with his foolish notions of protecting my host, he tries to help his friends even if he needs the help more than they do, he thinks he can make _me_ smile, and we all know how pathetically stupid that is." 

He turned to Honda, who was trying his best not to look as though the spirit's words had hurt, and his grin widened. "But he's _my_ idiotic, normal mortal. And when you have something to protect, you fight that much harder. With this motivation, it's easy to break your Item's bind over him." He turned back to Malik and shrugged. "You might not get it," The pale one said. "Although, Rishid understands." 

Malik gripped the Rod tightly, glowering at Yami Bakura. "And that just makes it all better?" He demanded, anger apparent in his voice. "They're still _mortal_, Bakura. What are you going to do when they're old and ugly and you don't _want_ to protect them anymore? Then what?" Malik turned and left before any could retort, the bells on the door jingling loudly as he slammed it. 

The woman behind the counter looked up, scanning the store, before returning to her video game guide. 

Honda felt Ryou relax against him, and the smaller boy moved to sit in Honda's lap. One of the brunet's arms pulled Ryou even closer to him, and there was a quiet, relieved murmur of, "Hiroto," against his chest. 

Yami Bakura sat back down and finished his ice cream, not making eye contact with either of his lovers. When the cup was empty he pushed it away and stood, gave the two an enigmatic gaze, and retreated to the Ring with a familiar bright flash. 

"Hiroto," Ryou said into his chest again, "Thank you for taking me out today." As though nothing important had happened. 

Honda gave the boy in his lap an extra squeeze. "Hey, anytime."

"Wanna go to my house in a little while?" Ryou asked softly. Yet another pink tinge made its way to his face. 

Honda agreed, and soon after the two made their way outside. The sun had gone down some time ago, and the moon was a bright crescent, though the sky wasn't completely dark yet. His bike, thankfully, did not have slashed tires. The possibility had occurred to him, considering Malik's mood when he left and that the Rod doubled as a dagger. As Honda was getting ready to help Ryou into the sidecar, though, the light-haired boy hesitated.

"Can I ride behind you instead?" 

With Ryou's arms tight around him, Honda started the bike. Unpredictability was one of the shared traits between the two, he reflected. 

The ride back to Ryou's was slower, both because there was no race and Honda was in no hurry to move from being that close to Ryou. With his shy boyfriend, he could cuddle or snuggle and just hold the smaller teenager against him, where Yami Bakura generally recoiled from such ideas. Honda would never tire of having Ryou's warm body against him, Ryou not doing anything but letting the taller boy hold him close. 

The two entered the empty house and without a word made straight for the couch. Once there, Honda pulled Ryou back on his lap, leaning back into the sofa and enjoying the other boy's weight and warmth. He could stay like that all night, he decided, closing his eyes and wondering when Bakura's parents would return. One of his hands moved on its own, running fingers through Ryou's light hair.

The shorter boy shifted, raising his head to look up at Honda. The brunet opened his eyes at the movement and met Ryou's gaze, large green eyes staring up at him.

"Something wrong?" Honda asked, concern rising at once. 

Ryou shook his head, pale tresses swishing along his shoulders. "It's just that… what Malik said…"

Honda held him closer. "Don't let him get to you." His voice was soft but firm.

"No, it's not that," Ryou said. He looked away from Honda, eyebrows drawing together in slight confusion. "I'm just worried about him."

Honda got over his surprise quickly and bent his head down to place a kiss on the top of Ryou's head. Unpredictable indeed. Of all the people to worry about the psychotic Eyptian, Ryou chose to. He should know better than anybody how Malik looked at him, making it obvious that he thought Ryou was some sort of dessert treat that he would devour in an instant were it not for Ryou's other half and Honda being there, and yet Ryou was concerned for him. 

"I can't quite see _why_," He admitted to the boy on his lap. 

"Because he doesn't understand," Ryou said. "He's mortal too, but he doesn't get it."

Honda didn't reply and started running his fingers through Ryou's hair again. He didn't know how to reply; he'd never been good at the whole 'consoling' thing. The only thing he knew how to do was to be there for a person, but he didn't ever know what to say. 

"Malik," Ryou murmured sleepily, "he doesn't have something to protect."

La fin

~~~

I apologize again if you feel that they're all horribly OOC, Malik especially. This is an experiment on my part, and I think I like it.

Anybody out there who has a motorcycle, feel free to correct me on anything I screwed up. I used to have one, but…


	2. A Straight Answer

So, I'm still paranoid that I've written them all horribly OOC… but, hell. I've been told it's alright. ^.^; 

As to Ryou's comments about sleeping around…. Well, you'll just have to wait until the next part to see what that's all about. ::grin:: Fortunately the next part is about halfway done.

The reason this took so long was because I wrote a part 2 out, had it about 3/4ths done, and then decided I hated it. Then I started writing this part at the same time I started writing the part that shows how things started, and so things went slower. But it's done now!

Something To Protect Part 2: A Straight Answer 

"Gaaah," Ryou complained, getting off Honda's motorcycle. "I never should have agreed to ride that without a helmet."

"What's wrong?" Honda asked, turning to face his boyfriend. Upon seeing the white-haired teen, though, he grinned. "Oh."

Ryou's hair looked messy on a regular basis, though he did brush it. At the moment, however, messy was an understatement. The wind had swept the long hair everywhere, taking a hold of the pale locks and having a field day with them. Consequently, Ryou's hair now appeared stringy, greasy, and was refusing to stay out of his face no matter how much he pushed it back behind his ears. 

Honda took note of the earrings, but said nothing.

"This is going to be Hell to brush out," Ryou moaned, running his fingers through a tangle. "If you ever try to pick me up without a helmet again, I am _not_ going with you." He pouted, tugging at a knot in his hair, before giving up on it and letting his hand drop.

Honda smiled, putting an arm around the shorter boy. "I'll brush it out for you," he offered. 

Ryou lifted his head up to see Honda. "Really?" He asked. His expression had instantly changed from peeved to overjoyed, a large smile appearing on his face. He leaned back against his boyfriend's chest, "Oh, it's been so long since anybody brushed my hair. Can you? Please?"

"Of course!" Honda wrapped his arms around Ryou. "Let's get inside – I'm sure mom won't notice if we use her brush."

Honda's house was familiar territory to Ryou by now, though the size of it (especially when compared with Ryou's small apartment) still made him want to accuse Honda of being 'rich.' It was a fairly average house, though – two floors, the bedrooms on the second. The basement was Honda's, where he kept his motorcycle. The rest of the basement was practically empty, save the cabinet where Honda's air rifle and the pellets were stored, and the foam targets hung up in the far end of the large room for target practice with said rifle. The first floor was a typical home, with a living room, kitchen, and dining room. Honda's mother kept most of the house clean, but it wasn't too hard since she and her husband were at the office so often that there wasn't much opportunity for the house to get dirty.

Honda's room was a mess, but the mess was confined to his room, and the floor was still (mostly) visible. The bed was unmade, the dirty laundry was piled up in a corner, and the desk was covered in various papers and other junk. Ryou'd tried to clean the room once, wondering why Honda didn't throw most of the things out, and had lasted an hour before giving up in exasperation. Still, he and Honda sat on the bed together, Ryou settling between Honda's legs, and the taller boy started to brush Ryou's hair. 

He didn't get very far.

"Ow! No, you start at the bottom!" Ryou turned against Honda, taking the brush from the puzzled boy. "If you start at the top, you drag the tangles down and they get worse," he explained. "You start at the bottom, like this." Grabbing a knotted lock, he demonstrated. "And you work your way up."

"Well, damn," Honda commented. "My hair's not nearly so complicated."

"That's 'cause you just slap a handful of gel on it each morning." Ryou frowned, though he wasn't serious, and tapped Honda's nose with the hairbrush. "I _am_ going to make you leave your hair down one day. It'd look cute."

"Not happening," Honda told him, taking the brush back. "I like my hair like this."

Ryou pouted and turned back around, crossing his arms. "I'm telling you, it'd look good." 

Honda shrugged and started on Ryou's hair once more, starting closer to the ends and running the brush down. Ryou shifted uncomfortably, and Honda paused. "It's not your fault this time – it's just tangled really bad." Reassured, the brunet resumed brushing, somewhat awed at the way the texture changed as he continued. The pale tresses grew softer as he continued, working through tangles and pausing each time he felt or saw Ryou tense up. After a while, though, the knots had been vanquished, but Honda didn't stop. Ryou was relaxed, and though the brunet couldn't see it, he could practically sense Ryou's closed eyes and content little smile.

"That feels wonderful," Ryou breathed. "Though I get worried about what you're doing back there – you're not putting my hair in pigtails or something, are you?"

Honda snorted, trying not to laugh, but failing miserably. He set the brush down and laughed loudly. "I wouldn't know where to begin for pigtails," he grinned. "What gives you that idea?"

Ryou leaned back against Hiroto's chest, tilting his head to see the other teen. "My little sister used to do that to me when she brushed my hair." 

"Oh? You have a sister?" Honda asked, genuinely curious and once again reminded of how little he knew of Ryou's family life. Ryou had met both of his parents, but Honda didn't even know whom his boyfriend lived with, or if he had the entire apartment to himself. 

Had," Ryou corrected, closing his eyes, but without the smile this time. "She's… dead."

"Oh," Honda didn't know how to respond to that. He was quiet, running his fingers through the soft strands of white hair, pulling them behind Ryou's ear. Ryou leaned toward his hand, and the brunet made a mental note to play with Ryou's hair more often. He didn't stop until Ryou's face had been relaxed for a long while, and his breathing was even and regular.

His hand settled on Ryou's shoulder, and he made a second mental note to find out more about his boyfriend. He'd have to ask about the pierced ears when Ryou woke up.

"Great job," a voice complimented nastily. Honda turned his head to see Yami Bakura leaning against the wall. "He gets really depressed about his sister, you know. Nice going."

Honda frowned. "I didn't know."

"Yeah," the dark Bakura agreed. "Ignorance isn't an excuse, though. You _should _know these things, unless my perception of modern life is completely wrong. But I _was_ under the impression that a person's boyfriend should at least have been introduced to their parents." His tone was particularly acidic that night. 

"They're never home when we go to his place," Honda defended, but it was a weak excuse. He didn't like the fact that the spirit was telling him this – he'd known it was a problem already. Having somebody say it was a harsh blow.

"You could have asked," Yami Bakura told him, leaving the wall and walking to the bed. "There are a lot of things you don't know about my landlord. You should make more of an effort." With that said, accompanied by a meaningful glare, the thief's gaze turned toward Ryou. The glare disappeared, and Yami Bakura reached a hand down to shake Ryou awake. 

"Meuh?" the teen asked incoherently.

"You said your dad was going to call tonight. You should get home," the thief said, voice completely flat. 

"Oh!" Ryou's eyes opened all the way, and he sat up straight. "I almost forgot!" Within moments he was up and at the door. "Thank you for waking me up," he called to the spirit. Then, with a sweet smile to Honda, "I'll see you tomorrow, 'kay?"

The brunet nodded. Ryou glanced to Yami Bakura, but a mental reassurance that his dark side was fine and was staying with Honda was all he needed before he rushed out of the room. 

Honda sat on the bed, slightly bemused by the sudden departure, and Yami Bakura flopped down onto the mattress next to him. 

"It was a lie, you know," he grinned, rolling on the bed to lay sidewise facing Honda. 

"What was?"

"That his dad's calling." The thief closed his eyes, lazy grin remaining as he continued to talk. "He's getting good at keeping secrets – lying. I'd be proud of him, except I'm pissed that he's lying to _me_."

Honda stared, puzzled. "How do you know it's a lie?"

Yami Bakura rolled to his former position, lying on his back. "I wouldn't know," he admitted, expression turning thoughtful as he watched the ceiling, "except for the fact that we're bound. He doesn't know how to keep everything out. I know it's a lie… And I know where he's really going." A grin reappeared on the thief's face. Ryou's skills might have rivaled his own, but the boy still hadn't managed to completely hide the truth from the thief, and that slip allowed Yami Bakura's pride to remain intact.

When Honda realized that Yami Bakura wasn't going to elaborate on his own, he asked where Ryou was going.

"It's not my secret to tell," the dark Bakura grinned. "But he'll be gone for a long time – let's keep ourselves occupied until then, hm?" Honda had just enough time for his eyes to widen before the spirit pounced.

~~~

"You'll have to hold this on your lap – they slide around too much in the back."

Malik nodded in acknowledgement, pulling his seatbelt on. Ryou waited patiently for his passenger to get settled in, then passed the pizza over. 

"I can feel the grease soaking into my pants," Malik deadpanned, resting the insulated bag on his lap.

"No, you can't." The car started moving again, and Malik shook his head.

"Fine," the blond muttered. "They're still really hot, though."

Ryou was quiet, focused on the road, despite the fact that it was shortly after midnight and his was one of the few cars out, if not the only one. The car moved along slowly, only accelerating after Ryou's foot had been on the gas pedal for a good five seconds, and the fabric on the ceiling was sagging (even with the staples). The windshield possessed one long crack that ran nearly the entire length of the glass, tapering off inches from the edge on the passenger side. Truthfully, it was a hunk of junk, but Malik refrained for pointing that out.

"I guess I'm impressed," Malik decided, shifting beneath the pizzas. "You came out to talk to me without your bodyguards. I could just make you drive to my house and they'd never know until morning… and I know they both like to sleep in." The tone was halfway a jibe, but serious enough that Ryou frowned slightly. 

"They're a bit more than bodyguards, Malik," he returned, but ignored the rest of the comment.

The blond in the passenger side leaned back in his seat. "How can you trust me this way, though?" He asked, voice careless. "Aren't you worried about what I'll do to you?"

The car slowed down for a red light, and Ryou quietly cursed the gap between when he pushed down on the brakes and when the car actually started to slow down. Malik waited patiently for an answer, and when the light turned green again, Ryou gave him one. 

"Do you expect me to be able to answer that?" He drove slowly, knowing that a good deal of his attention was off the road. "I'm not blind – I can see how you act around Honda and… and the Other Me, and how you act toward me. But I'm here with you anyway, so…"

He signaled and turned onto a one-way residential street, dropping the serious conversation. "Help me find the house – hopefully their lights will be on… it's 616 on this street." 

Malik snorted. "This is priceless, by the way. Pizza delivery boy Ryou. It's great."

Ryou didn't reply, stopped the car, hit the blinkers, and took the pizza out with him. Finally free to move his legs, Malik crossed them and his arms, waiting for the other to return. 

What the Hell was he doing, anyway? Alone in a car with Ryou – and neither of the boy's fuck-buddies were there to stop him. Why hadn't he just pinned the white-haired teen to the seat and proceeded to molest him? Then again, the whole thing had thrown him off, and Ryou was the one driving the car, so tackling him would be a bad idea. Looking at it yet another time, Malik wondered why _he_ wasn't the one driving; he didn't let even Rishid or Isis drive him places. 

Yet when Malik's current object of infatuation had come knocking at the door (at 12:00 AM, no less) and told him they could either talk, or Ryou could go deliver pizzas without him, Malik had chosen to tag along. 

Ryou returned to the car sans pizza and slammed the door behind him. The loud noise almost got a flinch out of Malik, who raised an eyebrow at the driver. 

"What?" Ryou asked. The car started up with a jerk. "It's a piece of shit car – the doors won't shut otherwise."

"Well, _I_ wasn't gonna say it."

"So," began Ryou as they turned onto a larger street, "what's on your mind?" Then, tempting fate and knowing it, "You haven't made a pass at me this whole time."

"I was wondering the same thing," the blond commented. "But you'd probably crash the car if I jumped you."

In seconds Ryou had pulled to the side of the street, parked illegally across somebody's driveway. The quick move jerked the car as they came to an abrupt stop, throwing the occupants against their seatbelts. The white haired boy hit the emergency flashers, then turned to face Malik.

"Now," he began, "I wanted to talk… I want to know… I mean…" He stopped himself, putting his thoughts to one coherent sentence. Malik watched, slightly taken aback by Ryou's change in attitude. Although a minor thing, Ryou was taking initiative to do something… but it seemed that he needed to be caught up in the moment to actually have the momentum to carry out his actions. After a moment of prepping himself, the question came out in a quick blurt, "What do you think of me? I want to know _why_ you look at me that way!"

The white-haired boy bit his lip, somewhat abashed with his own audacity. Malik took a moment to stare at him, amused, before he actually decided to think about the question. 

After perhaps a minute of silence, Malik realized he didn't know how to answer. 

Ryou sat facing forward in his seat again, turning off the blinkers and steering the car back out into the street. He spoke up again, eyes on the road, "Did you like the fact that I'm easy to manipulate? I'm quiet… I don't speak up when people are mean to me." He glanced over at Malik, but the blond was staring out the window instead. "Or – did you notice that, and think that I should learn how to stand up for myself? Did you notice me, past my shyness, and want to get to know me better? Did you even _care_ what I thought of you making advances on me?" His voice wasn't hurt or overly emotional, but Malik would have wagered that the thought had upset the boy before.

Then there was silence as Ryou drove them through the abandoned streets, until Malik decided that Ryou was done talking.

"Well, then," the tan boy shifted, tilting his head over to see Ryou. "What do you think of it?"

Ryou turned the car into the pizza store's parking lot. "I think you're lonely and bored, and just fooling yourself into thinking something you don't feel. I don't think you like me – _that_ _way_ – at all, but logically I'm the person you would like, if you liked a person that way." He parked the car easily and undid his seatbelt, then faced his passenger. "I believe there's somebody for you, but I'm not that somebody." 

Malik said nothing as Ryou ran back into the store to pick up the next delivery. He didn't move until Ryou returned, again slamming the door loudly and handing the pizza boxes to Malik to hold. His seatbelt clicked into place and he backed the car out, Malik still quiet. 

They'd gone a few blocks before Ryou, shifting in his seat, broke the silence. "So, should I keep talking, or …?" 

Malik set his elbow on the small ledge next to the door's window and leaned his head in his hand. "I dunno," he admitted. "I don't understand half of what you said, yet. How can you be so sure I'll find somebody – Hell, why does it matter whether or not I love them, why can't we just have sex?"

A slight frown appeared on Ryou's face. "Love is an iffy word," he said. "Do you believe in love? It's so hard to define… I want to believe in love, but it seems kind of like believing in God, some days. Impossible – for me, at least."

Malik snorted, gaze on Ryou. "I thought the point you were making to me was that I didn't love you."

"Kind of…" The white-haired teen drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. "Like I said, it's iffy. But I don't think you're attracted to me, just that you can see … that you can see I'm not ugly, at least, and you probably wouldn't mind having sex with me. And just having sex is fine, as long as both people know it's just sex." He bit his lip. 

Malik shifted his head in his hand and waited. Ryou kept his eyes glued to the road. 

"I used to do that a lot," Ryou finally admitted, cheeks tinted red. "I had a lot of sex with a lot of people. It was – it felt nice while we were… but afterwards, I felt like a whore." He inhaled and continued, barely audible over the car's engine. "This relationship… got started that way. But now I don't want to, I'd hate to go back to the way I was before. If I had sex with you now, I'd feel like I'd, I dunno, betrayed them – I'd feel like shit. Being … in a real relationship, and being able to look forward to being with them, just spending time together, or leaning on them when I need help – it's great." 

"You're glowing."

"Huh?" Ryou looked at Malik and tilted his head to the side.

"Oh," Malik grinned, "I didn't mean literally." Ryou relaxed. "I meant, you were really happy talking about them. Beaming."

Ryou's face flushed red for a moment, but the little smile was still there. "Ah." 

The car stopped and Malik handed Ryou the pizzas. 

 "If it makes you feel any better, I would have sex with you in a minute if I wasn't already taken," Ryou commented, one foot out of the car. 

Malik took a second to stare, before asking, "Seriously?"

The white-haired boy nodded. "You're damn hot." Then with a grin he exited the car, Malik watching him hop up to the door and knock.

Minutes later the driver returned, still smiling. "I will never cease to be amazed with how many people order pizza this late at night," Ryou announced, the car bouncing the passengers as it began moving. 

The next silence that settled in the car was comfortable, or at least an improvement from the previous feelings in the air. Malik watched the driver, mind mulling over what he'd heard over the last half hour or hour, or however long they'd been in the car. 

"Why Honda, though?" he asked, the question seemingly coming out from of the blue. 

"Why not?" Ryou returned, eyebrows raised. 

"He's just – Hell, I dunno. He's normal. No item, no magic, and he actually _looks_ like he's Japanese." 

It was true. Not blond like Jounouchi, or with Yuugi's unusual eyes and hair, or even Anzu's bright blue eyes, Honda was dark-haired, dark eyed, and had a typically Asian skin tone. There was nothing that set him apart from any other Japanese male, and he seemed the blandest out of any of Yuugi's friends, always staying to the sidelines and offering support, much like Anzu.

Ryou giggled. "And here I thought you had a point."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Malik frowned, but before he could get too offended Ryou spoke again.

"None of that matters. Not at all." Ryou smiled, a slightly dreamy expression, and Malik wondered if he was paying attention to the road at all. "He _cares_ about me. He'd do anything and everything he could, for me, even if I told him not to. And he'd do the same for the Other Me, even if they don't act it all the time."

Malik didn't know what to say to that either, so he didn't say anything for a long while as Ryou drove.  

Ryou stopped for a red light, despite the fact that the intersection was completely empty, and Malik watched him. As soon as the light was green Ryou was off again, and the tan boy laughed quietly. "The roads are totally empty, and you're obeying traffic laws?"

Ryou nodded. "I'm not supposed to be driving in the first place, so getting pulled over would be just about the worst thing that could happen."

Malik blinked at that, curiosity rising. "Do they know about this? I mean, Driver's Ed here is expensive as all hell." There was no question that the 'they' referred to, at the least, Ryou's lovers. 

There was a nervous chuckle from Ryou. "Yeah, it is," he agreed, but said nothing else on the topic. Malik watched, waiting expectantly, but it wasn't until he asked again that he got a response.

"Malik, how old do you have to be in Japan to get your license?" [1]

There was a pause. Then, "You can lie?"

Ryou laughed softly again. "I live with the King of Thieves, Malik. I'm bound to have some illegal things – and there is no way I'd be able to legally afford Driver's Ed, anyway." 

"That's true enough," Malik agreed, rolling down his window and letting the wind rush in to mess up his hair. Not as good as a motorcycle, he decided – definitely not as good, especially since he wasn't driving – but riding in a car wasn't half bad. "Especially if the size of your birdhouse apartment is any indication of how much cash you have."

"Hey! Are you insulting my apartment?"

It was a few hours later that Ryou's shift ended and he drove Malik back. Their conversation had continued, no longer broken by long silences, but also no longer on serious topics. Malik's laughter had slightly unnerved Ryou when he the conversation became humorous, since before when Malik had laughed it was always in triumph, or maniacally, or both. And though the tan boy wasn't cackling, it was the same voice laughing. Eventually, though, the two were able to giggle together at the types of things that are only funny in the wee hours of the morning.

Before the blond left the car Ryou had given him a small peck on the cheek and made empty threats about what would happen if Malik told anybody anything about that night. The blond agreed, if only for the fact that he didn't want people to know he hadn't been the one driving, or so he claimed. Then Ryou left, and half an hour later he was climbing the stairs to his apartment. 

When he opened the door Yami Bakura was waiting on the couch for him, sitting on the sleeping Hiroto's lap, an opened Coke can on the table in front of them. "Good morning," the spirit greeted as Ryou entered.

The teenager started, before calming back down and shutting the door behind him. "Hey," he mumbled, staring at the carpet. He was too sleepy to deal with this – he wanted nothing more than to lay down in bed, pajamas or no. "I'm sorry."

"For what?" Yami Bakura leaned back onto Honda, who didn't seem to notice. A wide grin slowly appeared on the spirit's face. "I'm proud of you – though I'm pissed that you kept secrets from me, or tried to." His expression darkened for a moment, eyes narrowing and grin disappearing, before he once again looked amused. 

"Um…" Ryou was slightly taken aback. "Thank you?"

Yami Bakura waved a hand, dismissing the subject, and stood up. "Anyway, he," a gesture to the still-snoozing Honda, "wants to know your secrets." There was a glance toward Ryou to gauge the teen's reaction, but the boy's face remained blank. It was the neutral expression he often wore in public, around people he didn't know, and Yami Bakura said nothing else on the topic of Hiroto asking about Ryou's life. 

"Get some sleep, then," Yami Bakura ordered. 

With a nod, Ryou toed off his shoes and stumbled through the living room. Upon reaching the couch, he leaned down and brushed Honda's forehead with his lips, careful not to disturb the sleeping brunet. Honda continued to sleep deeply, face relaxed in that way that nobody's is until they're asleep. When Ryou stood straight again he was still wobbly, but began to make his way toward his room. 

"Oh, for fuck's sake," Yami Bakura muttered from directly behind Ryou. The younger one was too tired to feel surprised at his dark half silently creeping up on him – it happened often enough that he was beginning to become desensitized to it – but his eyes did widen when the thief bent his knees and picked Ryou up off the ground, throwing him over one shoulder. As the spirit headed toward Ryou's bedroom, the teenager relaxed, nearly falling asleep on top of his other half. Yami Bakura startled him back into a semi-conscious state by dropping him on the mattress, but Ryou was too far gone to do much more than mumble and turn on his side, moving to set his head on the pillow. 

The spirit stared for a moment, and then bent down over his landlord. Brushing the boy's bangs out of his face, then brushing the rest of the messy hair off Ryou's neck and behind his head, Yami Bakura placed a soft kiss, no more than brushing dry lips against skin, on Ryou's forehead. He stood up, head turning to check that the two were alone, and then silently left his landlord's room. 

Back with Hiroto on the couch, Yami Bakura stared at the brunet's forehead. A few brown strands had fallen free of their gel, so that Honda now had a few short bangs. Yami Bakura brushed those out of his way, hand resting on the side of Honda's face, and copied Ryou's motion once more, expression still unchanged from the neutral stare he'd given to Ryou's sleeping form.

His thumb casually traced Honda's eyebrow, then moved down the brunet's cheek, and that was when Yami Bakura frowned and took his hand back. 

There was a flash of light, still not enough to wake the sleeper, and Honda was left alone on the sofa. 

[la fin]

[1] In Japan, one can't get their driver's license until they're 18 years old. Driver's Ed is, unless I'm mistaken, some thousands of dollars. It's also that expensive in France. Be thankful you live in the USA, and please don't drink and drive.


End file.
